


Got Your Back

by megdanger



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN, Gen, I NEED DUCK TO GRIEVE, Implied/Referenced Character Death, TAZ Amnesty, canon character death, canon compliant as far as I know but these things tend to change by the episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 02:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megdanger/pseuds/megdanger
Summary: Duck can't believe that something as ordinary and simple as a bullet could kill a man like Ned Chicane.(In which we get an in-between for Duck processing Ned's death)





	Got Your Back

**Author's Note:**

> I know I’m late to the sadness party, but I’m caught up on Amnesty and it’s time to give my boy his due AKA “we never got Duck’s initial reaction to Ned’s death and I’m feeling like a big salty bitch about it”

To say that Duck was feeling good after his fight with the abomination and the experience of having an entire grown-ass person or whatever the hell Minerva was, exactly, tugged through a wormhole _in his fucking brain oh my god,_ would not have been especially accurate. But still, they’d stopped the thing, at least for now, he’d gotten his powers back, and he’d even managed to prevent Leo’s dream prophecy thing and keep the older man alive.

Good things all around.

So while “exhausted,” ache-y,” and “kicked to shit” were overall better descriptors for how Duck felt right now, they at least all came with a sense of accomplishment, which was nice, at least for the half-hour and change the feeling lasted before Mt. Kepler, what? Exploded? Imploded? Ka-ploded? Jesus, who even knew? And then...oh, and then...

It takes him a good minute to even understand what Aubrey, exhausted and looking about as beat up as Duck feels, is saying. She’s all tears and dirt and smudged smoke, saying that she told Ned to leave and somehow this is all her fault.

“Aubrey, it’s okay,” he tries to reassure the youngest Pine Guard member, “I killed the abomination, me and Minerva and I guess Dr. Drake now too? We straight kicked its ass. What the hell happened with Mt. Kepler?”

“You don’t understand,” Aubrey manages to choke out, “there’s a war coming and it’s all a huge mess but it’s Ned, Duck.”

“What about him?” Duck feels his pulse quickening, even as he tells himself that it’s okay. He did his job today, he’s the Chosen One again and he kept everyone safe, like a hero’s supposed to do. Lord knows what Ned’s gotten into this time but whatever it is, Duck will handle it. He always has.

“He’s dead, and I couldn’t save him. I tried, Duck! I tried like I did with Dewey but nothing happened and -”

Duck’s already tuned Aubrey out, his vision keyed in to something on the ground that he hadn’t noticed before, something person-shaped, motionless and stained through the middle with what he refuses to recognize is blood. As Aubrey keeps talking, half her words in sobs, all Duck hears is static.

Duck can’t believe that Ned Chicane wasn’t able to figure out a way to cheat death itself. He can’t believe that it wasn’t an abomination that killed the old con man, which is what the smart money would’ve bet on, but one of Kepler’s own. How could Ned “Bigger and Louder Than Life” Chicane die from something as simple and mundane as a bullet?

It just doesn’t seem right.

“What the fuck, Minerva?” he finds himself screaming at his newly-corporeal mentor, “why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t I dream about this? I worked so hard making sure everybody was gonna get through today okay, that everyone was gonna make it out alive and I kept them all safe, I kept Leo safe but you never even told me Ned was in danger! What the fuck?!”

And she takes it, lets Duck’s anger wash over her, a smile on her face that is not really a smile but a bittersweet memory of all the fallen comrades she’s known throughout her life.

“As Much As I Wish It Were True, I Am Not All-Knowing Duck Newton. I Can’t See Everything. I’m Sorry For Your Friend, But It Seems He Died A Hero, Yes?”

“I s’pose,” Duck mutters, “for whatever the fuck that’s worth.”

“It Is Worth Everything,” Minerva assures him quietly, or at least her version of quietly, anyway.

And Duck knows he’s not actually angry at Minerva, not really. It’s just that there’s no one for him to be angry at, no easy place to stick the blame. Dani had been manipulated, used and altered by...something. The shapeshifter? Who even knows at this point. The townspeople were all whipped up in a frightened frenzy. Pigeon...it would be so easy to blame Pigeon but she had just been scared, she saw a monster and tried to protect the people she cared about, leaving Ned no choice but to do the same.

God but Duck wishes there was someone he could just go and be angry at.

And then everything moves much too quickly, there’s the FBI, there are truths to cover up, sylphs to hide, plans to make and when Duck finally finds the letters addressed to him and Aubrey at the Crytponomica he almost can feel himself falling apart. When he tries to read it, the words blur together and instead, he remembers an evening at the bar, shortly after losing his powers…

Duck had finally gotten exactly what he’d wanted for more than half his life: to be normal. Of course, now that he had it, he found himself in a constant state of helmet-wearing fear and anxiety. Ned had taken him out in the hopes of drinking some of those anxieties away, knocking on the aforementioned helmet as he tried to drag the ranger out of his head.

“Hey, come on now, Duck, buck up!” Ned stopped and grinned stupidly for a moment, “heh, duck up...erhm, anyway, as I was saying, don’t be so glum about it! I mean, after all, I’ve managed to get by in one piece this whole time as the sole non-magical member of our little monster-fighting _ménage à trois_ -”

“Please never use those words again.”

Undeterred, per usual, Ned continued, “so I don’t see what you’re so worried about. And unlike me, you at least actually know how to y’know,” and he attempted to mime what Duck could only assume was either sword fighting or possibly bowling, “do that swashbuckling thing with your fancy fashion accessory there,” he finished, pointedly eyeing Beacon, currently in belt-form, with a raised eyebrow.

Duck groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Why does literally everything that comes out of your mouth sound like you’re either lying or horny?”

“It’s the Chicane Curse,” Ned said, looking upwards in an exaggeratedly mournful manner, “the whole family line is doomed to be incontrovertibly sexy liars ever since the day that Great Great Grandma Chicane -”

Usually, at this point, Duck would either be laughing into his drink despite his better judgment or at least so wildly annoyed at Ned that his mind would no longer be focused on whatever was bothering him. But this was different and Ned realized that Duck wasn’t even really listening anymore, had slid from his initial irritation back to staring a hole into the bar-top, arms squeezed against himself, his thoughts spinning in anxious circles.

Ned let himself trail off, put down his beer and what he hoped was a comforting hand on Duck’s shoulder, although the touch only made the ranger flinch as it jerked him back out of his head.

“Hey,” Ned said quietly, dropping the usual dramatic flourishes from his voice in an attempt at sincerity, “it’s gonna be ok, all right? You and Aubrey have always watched out for me before, and now it’s my turn to repay the favor. So, for what it’s worth,” and he stopped for a self-aware chuckle before adding, “and it admittedly may not be much, I’ve got your back.”

And Duck had to agree, although not out loud, that it was true that the idea of Ned watching out for him was more than a little absurd. Ned was older, slower, and overall much better suited to sneaking around alone than helping defend Duck in a fight. Still, despite all that or maybe because of it, Duck did feel touched by the old con artist’s words and the fact that they sounded both true and also not horny.

“Weirdly enough,” Duck said, allowing himself a small smile and letting his body relax by a fraction, “that actually does kinda make me feel a little better. So thanks, Ned.”

Ned grinned widely in response, slapping Duck on the back and Jesus, was he just feeling particularly enthused or had his back slaps always been that hard and Duck had just never noticed before losing his powers?

“Hey, there he is!” Ned laughed, “I wondered when Duck Newton would finally fucking show up to the party. Now be a pal and buy the next round because, unfortunately, noble intentions are not acceptable currency and they’re about all I’ve got right now.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ned,” Duck muttered, rolling his eyes as he reached for his wallet. Even so, he was still smiling.

Now, Duck stands in the Cryptonomica, holding the letter, knowing there’s no time to mourn, to give the fallen member of the Pine Guard his proper due and so Duck just quietly whispers to the empty store,

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, Ned. I’m sorry I didn’t have your back.”


End file.
